


Shiver me timbers!

by ebonyfeather



Category: Primeval
Genre: M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-25
Updated: 2011-08-25
Packaged: 2017-10-23 01:46:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/244881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebonyfeather/pseuds/ebonyfeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Isn't this cool? It's a real live tavern, with bar wenches and pirates and everything!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shiver me timbers!

 

The room was dark and dingy, the only light coming from lit torches and candles around the walls. It was probably a good thing, Becker reasoned, not really wanting to see where that revolting smell was coming from. It was a mixture of stale ale, tobacco, sweat and just a hint of something-died-in-here. Still, he’d been in worse places.

 

“Isn’t this cool?” Connor bounced lightly on the balls of his feet next to Becker, and he could see that the other man was just itching to scamper off and explore. “It’s a real live tavern, with bar wenches and pirates and everything!”

 

‘Live’ was a good word for it, Becker thought. Goodness knows what kinds of things they’d pick up if they spent too long here.

 

“You might want to either lower your voice or stop calling them bar wenches,” he advised Connor, indicating to a large woman squeezed into a dress that was at least two sizes small for her. The laces on the corset top were straining and each movement threatened to make her ample assets overflow from it. She was glaring at Connor and even Becker was a bit afraid of her. The woman looked as though she could flatten him with one punch.

 

Connor smiled at her and mouthed _Sorry_.

 

“Maybe we should get out of here,” Becker suggested. “We stick out like sore thumbs in this place.”

 

They had stumbled into here by accident, looking for somewhere to lie low for a while until they could work out what to do next. The anomaly had dropped them in a dark street, leading to what looked like a town square. The cobble stones had straw and dirt over them, the surrounding buildings lit up with torches. A short walk around their new surroundings had found them at a dock, where rows of small wooden landing boats were moored in among small sailing boats. Toward the far end of the harbour and out to sea, visible in the moonlight, were other larger ships with high masts. The minute Connor saw them, his excitement grew.

 

“They’re just like in Pirates of the Caribbean,” he said. “This is so cool!”

 

Cool probably wasn’t the description Becker would have chosen. They were stuck here thanks to a tiny mishap whilst releasing a creature. Everything had been going according to plan; they had taken the tranquilised animal through the anomaly and left it somewhere it would be safe until it awoke. Unfortunately, the creature had come around a lot quicker than they expected, making such a noise that it brought a whole herd of the damn things to its rescue. When they charged at Becker and Connor, the two men had dived back through the anomaly, not realising that a second one had opened…

 

Instead of home, they found themselves here. A small part of Becker had to agree that it was interesting. It was like walking through the set of a pirate film, only it was real with the sounds and smells. What concerned him more, however, was the fact that they were stuck here, with no way to get back. The fact that almost everyone here appeared to be armed didn’t ease his worries any, either, especially when all they had was one half-charged EMD.

 

A scuffle to his left drew his attention to where a man with a long scar running down the side of his face was currently making a grab at Connor. The scar cut down his eyebrow, barely missing his eye, and down his cheek. He wore what Becker thought of as typical pirate clothing: long coat with pistols strapped underneath it, breeches, boots, and a tricorn hat. Connor wriggled out of his grasp and made a run back to Becker. Becker reached out and steered Connor behind him, putting himself between them.

 

“He’s not interested,” he told the man.

 

A silence fell over the nearby tables, conversations stopping mid sentence as all eyes went to Becker.

 

“You couldn’t just stay out of trouble, could you?” he hissed to Connor.

 

“It wasn’t my fault! He grabbed me.”

 

Becker sighed; so much for keeping a low profile until the anomaly opened again.

 

“Step aside, pretty boy.” The man took a step closer. “This ain’t your concern.”

 

“I think it is,” Becker told him, staring the man down. If he could face a dinosaur, he could stand up to this pillock. “He’s with me.”

 

Those at the nearby tables looked surprised and Becker had to assume that not many people said no to this man. Well, time to make a hasty exit, he thought, giving Connor a push in the direction of the door. He didn’t turn his back until the last moment, and that was what saved him. He caught a glimpse of a steel blade from the corner of his eye and turned, the EMD in his hand even before he’d finished moving. One shot on the lowest setting and the man crumpled to the floor, twitching slightly.

 

Those who had begun to rise to their feet sat down again hurriedly, suddenly finding more interesting things to focus on so as not to be next.

 

“Time to go,” Becker said, giving Connor a shove out of the door. As soon as they were out in the street he tucked the EMD away into the holster strapped to his thigh after checking the battery. “This thing has maybe one shot left in it, if we’re lucky.” He glanced around, seeing the people watching them. “We need to blend in.”

 

Connor looked down at his jeans, trainers and leather jacket and conceded that Becker might be right. Between his clothing and Becker’s black combat gear and body armour, they might as well have a big sign over their heads that flashed ‘Tourists!’.

 

“I might be able to help you with that, gents,” a voice announced from the tavern doorway.

 

Becker had the EMD back out and aimed but the stranger merely smiled at him and lifted the barrel out of the way with his index finger. He dressed similar to the other man, in similar clothing, but the way he looked over the pair of them had nothing cold about it. What made Becker’s mind up, however, was the fact that he did nothing about it. He looked, but he didn’t touch. Becker holstered the EMD once more.

 

“That’s better. Now we can talk like civilised folk.”

 

He ushered them off the street, moving them toward a wooden staircase that lead up to the second floor of one of the buildings. Seeing their hesitation, he went up first, waiting for them at the top.

 

“Why are you helping us?” Becker asked when they reached the top, going inside and closing the door behind them.

 

The stranger smiled. “I enjoyed watching old Henry getting taken down a peg or two. Mean old bugger, he is. You might want to watch your back, though. He’s a sore loser.” He set off quickly through the building, which they soon learned was what Connor’s mum would have referred to as a house of ill repute. Their rescuer darted in and out of the rooms, ignoring the shouts and curses from the occupants, and reappeared with an armful of clothing. Dragging them down the hallway to an empty room he dropped the clothes onto the bed.

 

“Here. You wanted to blend in; put these on.” Seeing Becker’s uneasy look toward the hallway, he smiled. “They won’t be needing it for a while, and by then we’ll be long gone.”

 

Connor picked up a shirt and scrunched his nose in distaste. “It’s still warm.”

 

The stranger just rolled his eyes. Becker nodded to Connor to do as they were told, stripping out of his body armour and t-shirt before toeing his boots off. Then he paused with his hands on his belt.

 

“Could you turn around or something?” he asked.

 

“Now what’d be the fun in that?”

 

Becker sighed. “Well then, at least tell us who you are.”

 

The stranger grinned widely, showing a gold tooth that gleamed in the torchlight. “Ezekial Smith, first mate aboard the Moonshadow. You can call me Zeke.”

 

Connor and Becker went through the clothing until they found things that would fit, surprised that Zeke had managed to steal things that were close to their sizes. Becker finished tucking the billowy, open-necked white shirt into black breeches that were just a bit too snug for his comfort. There were even boots that were comfortable.

 

“How did you do that?” Becker asked.

 

“Let’s just say I’ve got an eye for a fella’s measurements,” Zeke told him.

 

Connor smiled. “Got that right.” He licked his lips as he took in the sight of Becker in the shirt and knee-high leather boots, and admiring the way the breeches fit to his arse. Leaning in closer, he trailed his index finger down the exposed v of skin at Becker’s neck. “Have you any idea how sexy you look in that?” he asked, curling a hand around Becker’s neck and pulling him in for a heated kiss.

 

Moments later he backed away, cheeks red as he remembered Zeke.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” Zeke told him before adding, “Not unless it’s to let me join in.”

 

Becker straightened his shirt and began to empty the pockets of his combat trousers of anything useful. The EMD would be going with him too, as would the bullet-proof vest. Who knew when it might come in handy. When the contents of his pockets and the vest had been stuffed into the backpack that Connor had been carrying, he shouldered it, ready at last.

 

“Is there somewhere we can keep out of sight for a while?” he asked Zeke. “We need to stay close to this area for when our way home comes back, though.”

 

~.~

 

The ship was huge. It towered above them as two men rowed them out to it in a small wooden boat, the masts stretching high into the night sky. A small rope ladder hung over the side, their way on board, and up on deck it was even more impressive.

 

“This is amazing,” Connor enthused, looking around. He stayed close, though Becker could see he still wanted to go and take a closer look. It seemed that the earlier experience in the tavern had unnerved him and so he stayed within reach of Becker.

 

“So glad that you appreciate her,” a smooth voice said.

 

They both turned to see an older man approaching them. Even the way he walked screamed power, and Becker realised that this must be the Captain. He cast a critical eye over both of them before turning to Zeke and smirking.

 

“Two, Zeke?” he asked. “Feeling energetic, I see.”

 

Well that explained why the men in the boat hadn’t even looked surprised that Zeke was bringing to complete strangers back with him. He must do this a lot. Becker began to protest that they weren’t his pick-ups but Zeke silenced him with a hand on his arm and a pointed look. The other crew wandered away again, looking amused by their first mate’s antics.

 

“Cap’n, may we speak inside?”

 

Connor and Becker followed the two men into the captain’s cabin, both marvelling at the decorated walls and intricate carvings whilst trying not to gawk like tourists. Connor saw Becker’s gaze land on the ornate swords hung on the wall, saw his eyes light up as he edged closer to have a look. Reaching out to touch he stopped himself, quickly pulling his hand back. This was the captain’s cabin, his living quarters; it wasn’t right for them to be nosing about. Instead, he turned his attention back to the conversation.

 

“And why should I assist them?” the captain was asking.

 

Zeke smiled. “Because this one,” he indicated to Becker, “set Scarface on his back in the tavern. Shot him.”

 

That seemed to get the captain’s attention and he looked to Becker with renewed interest. “Did you really? Now that, I would have liked to see.”

 

Another low-voiced discussion and the captain turned his focus to them, holding out his hand.

 

“Nathaniel Black. Welcome to the Moonshadow.”

 

Becker shook his hand, introducing himself and Connor. “Thank you. Your kindness is appreciated.”

 

Captain Black laughed. “Aye. Just because we’re pirates, doesn’t mean we’d turn a man out onto the street. Especially not one who bested Scarface Henry.”

 

Zeke led them to his cabin; they had decided it was best to keep up the pretence of Becker and Connor being his latest playthings. It would be harder to explain why the captain had allowed two strangers aboard than two more of Zeke’s conquests. Zeke’s cabin was nowhere as big as the captain’s but there was enough room. Becker and Connor opted to sleep on the floor. Zeke had offered the bed but it would be a little too cosy with all three of them in it.

 

“Where are you from? Everything about you is strange, from your speech to your clothing. And the pistol you carry? I have never seen the likes of it,” Zeke asked.

 

Becker dropped the backpack into the corner. “I don’t think you’d believe us if we told you.”

 

“So tell me a story.”

 

They did. They told him of the anomaly and how they came to be stranded here, about their world and the people they worked with. Zeke listened in silence, only speaking when they reached the end.

 

“You’re from the future,” he said in disbelief.

 

“Yes.”

 

He stared at them, still looking dazed, before he laughed. “Ah, I get it. Good jape.” Seeing that neither of them were laughing with him, both of them looking deadly serious in fact, he stopped. “It is not possible.”

 

Becker sat down next to him. “Just as it was not possible for me to shoot Scarface without using a bullet? My weapon fired a concentrated electrical charge… and you have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

 

It was obvious that Zeke still thought they were teasing him but he didn’t seem to mind. The confused expression on his face faded to his usual humour as he began to answer Connor’s questions about the ship, becoming animated as he told stories of their exploits. He told them of raids and being chased by the Naval ships, looking pleased that they were interested.

 

That night, Connor snored softly, curled up against Becker on a blanket on the wooden floor. Becker, however, just could not fall asleep. He kept hearing sounds that were unfamiliar to him, the creaking of the ship as it rocked gently on the ocean, the scuffles of feet on wooden decks as those crewmembers still awake moved about. He was too aware of their current predicament; they were on a ship, in a cabin with a stranger, where there was no quick escape should things go wrong. His arm had begun to tingle where Connor had fallen asleep on it, and he shifted, easing it out from under Connor’s body but the movement woke the other man.

 

“Is it morning?” Connor asked, blinking at him and yawning.

 

“No, go back to sleep.”

 

Connor pressed closer, looking more awake now. “I can think of better things to do. I’ve wanted to do this all day,” he said, straddling Becker’s hips and leaning down to kiss him.

 

Connor shuffled down Becker’s body to sit on his ankles as Becker glanced up at the man in the bunk nearby. He was still, appearing to be sleeping, but Becker knew better. He could see the hitch in Zeke’s breathing as Connor’s fingers hooked into the waistband of Becker’s boxers, easing them down. Bright eyes watched in the darkness as Connor dipped his head once more and closed his lips around Becker’s cock. Becker smiled at Zeke, hearing him swear softly when he realised he’d been caught watching.

 

~.~

 

The following morning, Becker was woken by the sound of someone banging a spoon against the base of a heavy metal pan. He shook Connor awake too, and they were almost dressed when Zeke returned.

 

“Hungry?” he asked. “Better come quick, if you are.”

 

As they followed him out, Becker turned to Zeke. “Enjoy the show, did you?”

 

Zeke swore. “Look, I’m sorry-”

 

Becker laughed. “If I was bothered, I would have stopped him.”

 

~.~

 

Two days later, the Moonshadow set sail. Zeke informed them that they were welcome to go back ashore if they wanted, but Becker knew that wasn’t a good idea. They had a safe place to stay on board the ship; if they went back ashore, they would be on their own. The ship would be coming back into port in about a week’s time anyway, and Connor agreed that remaining on board was worth the risk of the anomaly opening before they came back.

 

“I don’t particularly want to run into that man again,” Becker told Zeke. “My weapon is almost out of power. I can take care of myself in a fight but it’s hardly an even match if he’s got a pistol or a sword, is it?”

 

“I could loan you a sword.”

 

Becker smiled. “Thanks for the offer but, with the exception of a trip to the Armouries Museum once or twice, I’ve never even seen a sword close up. I don’t think it would do me much good.”

 

“Then I will teach you.”

 

Glancing at Connor, Becker saw the same questions in his eyes as were in Becker’s mind.

 

“What do you want from us?” he asked Zeke. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful but you’re helping us, giving us a place to stay, and people don’t usually do that for free. Especially not for complete strangers.”

 

Zeke didn’t look offended in the slightest. “Perhaps I’m helping you out of the goodness of my heart,” he joked. “Or maybe I think that, if help you, that you will be grateful enough to take me to your bed. Or at the very least, allow me to watch.” He grinned at them. “Who knows?” he said as he walked away back to his duties.

 

Connor laughed. “I’d bet money on the second option.”

 

“Me too. You’re tempted, aren’t you?” Becker asked. “You’re wondering what he’d be like.”

 

Connor blushed slightly. “And you’re not?” he retorted. “I’ll admit that I like him, and he is pretty easy on the eyes…”

 

“That he is,” Becker agreed. “Come on, let’s see if we can help.”

 

He didn’t like feeling like a passenger on the ship, standing around while the others worked. It wasn’t what he was used to. The trouble was that they knew virtually nothing about ships such as this one, and even less about how to actually sail the thing. Connor’s knowledge only stretched as far as the pirate films he’d watched and they hadn’t exactly been historically accurate.

 

Captain Black, however, seemed to appreciate their offer and sent them off to work with some of the crew. By now, the crew had realised that the two of them were staying but as Captain Black seemed to be fine with it, no one objected. The fact that they offered to pitch in and help lifted the crew’s opinions of them, some now looking at the pair of them curiously, realising that there was more to it than them being their first mate’s latest playthings.

 

They also found it hugely entertaining when, after they had anchored for the night, Zeke appeared with two swords, tossing one of them to Becker. A round of laughter rang out as Becker missed his grab at the hilt instead narrowly missing cutting himself on the blade.

 

“Other way ‘round, lad. Yer meant to hold the blunt end,” one of the crew heckled.

 

Becker glared as he picked up the sword, testing the weight of it in his hand. It felt comfortable, the grip fitting his fingers perfectly.

 

Connor watched as Zeke instructed Becker: how to stand, how to deflect a blow, how to attack. He had started out watching the lessons, but his focus kept shifting to Becker. He looked so good in what Connor had started to think of as his pirate clothes, the baggy shirt no longer white but still looking just as good tucked into the tight trousers. The laces at the neck had started to come unfastened as he moved, revealing an incredibly tempting-looking section of skin with a dark smattering of hair. Connor let his gaze wander, eventually settling on Becker’s arse.

 

“…do you think?”

 

There was a chorus of laughter and then someone poked him in the ribs. When he looked around he saw Becker and Zeke grinning at him. Busted. They knew exactly what he had been looking at instead of paying attention.

 

“Sorry. What did you say?”

 

The man beside him just shook his head, still chuckling, and told him it wasn’t important.

 

Connor turned his attention back to Becker and Zeke as the lesson continued before the crew began to turn in for the night. When Zeke suggested they stop, he followed the other two back to the cabin and as soon as the door was closed, Becker backed him against it.

 

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to concentrate when I could feel your eyes on me?” he asked.

 

Becker pressed closer and Connor could feel the heat from his skin through their clothing. Shifting slightly and rubbing against Becker more than he really need to, making the other man’s breath catch, he smiled.

 

“I think I can feel how hard it is,” he said, teasing. “Sorry, I meant _was_.”

 

“Cheeky little sod.”

 

Connor could see Zeke watching them openly, not bothering to hide it, as he dipped his head and ran his tongue along the exposed strip of skin at Becker’s throat. He’d been thinking about doing that all night as he watched them practice with the swords, as well as something else. Pulling back he glanced at Becker, his eyes flicking to the man watching them in silent conversation. Becker grinned, nodding minutely, stepping away from Connor.

 

Zeke looked surprised when Connor approached him, even more so when Connor grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him closer.

 

“Do you still want us?” he asked.

 

Zeke’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean that you had to-”

 

“Do you still want us?” Connor repeated. He waited until the man nodded before smiling at him. “Good,” he said, and kissed him.

 

Becker moved in behind Zeke and eased his jacket off his shoulders, slipping it off him. He hung it on the nail on the wall, going back to Zeke and moulding his body to the other man’s back.

 

“Tell me what you want,” Connor asked Zeke. “What did you imagine us doing?”

   

“I-” Zeke groaned softly as Becker kissed and nipped at the side of his neck. “I wanted-”

 

Connor laughed softly. “Hard to concentrate when he’s doing that, isn’t it?”

 

Becker stopped teasing his neck. “I think he’d like you to get on your knees and suck him,” he told Connor, cupping his palm over Zeke’s cock through his trousers. “See, he likes that idea.”

 

“Fuck yes,” Zeke muttered, pushing his hips forward into Becker’s hand.

 

As Connor dropped to his knees on the wooden floor, Becker unfastened Zeke’s trousers, pushing them down to his hips for Connor to drag them the rest of the way. He wrapped his hand around Zeke’s cock, directing him to Connor’s waiting mouth.

 

Zeke’s head leaned back on Becker’s shoulder as Connor sucked and teased, Becker exploring Zeke’s body with his hands, running his fingers over every inch of exposed skin as he tugged the man’s shirt off over his head.

 

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered into Zeke’s ear. “Do you want to come like this, or maybe you want to fuck one of us. Tell me, Zeke.”

 

For a moment, Zeke didn’t reply, his eyes closed as a soft moan escaped his lips.

 

“Want you. I want to come like this and then I want you to take me.”

 

Becker was surprised, expecting the man to want to top, but he definitely liked the idea. The mental image of having Zeke bent over, that hot little arse presented to him, waiting to be fucked, had Becker as hard as rock, his trousers becoming uncomfortably tight. One handed, he reached down to unfasten his trousers, freeing his cock and pressing close to Zeke once more, the feel of skin on skin bringing a groan from his lips.

 

Connor looked up and met Becker’s eyes, knowing exactly what his boyfriend was doing back there. Becker grinned, slipping his arms around Zeke as the other man came, pouring himself down Connor’s throat. When Connor stood, he licked his lips before looking to Becker.

 

“He’s all yours,” he said, giving Becker a kiss.

 

Zeke sank down on his bed as Becker undressed, Connor bending to take Zeke’s boots and trousers off before shedding his own clothing. As they undressed, Zeke rummaged around in the trunk by his bed and handed Becker a corked glass bottle.

 

Becker sniffed it cautiously; it smelled of apples. Tipping a little on his fingers he found that the apple-scented contents had the consistency of gun oil. He showed Connor.

 

“I hope you’ve got a good supply of this,” he told Zeke.

 

The pirate grinned. “I have.”

 

Becker dripped a little more of the oil onto his fingers and smeared it about.

 

“Get on your knees, Zeke,” Becker ordered, seeing from the look in the man’s eyes as he obeyed that his assumption had been correct.

 

Zeke wanted bossing about, wanted to give up control with them, something that he couldn’t do with any of his regular playmates or the men on the crew. With them he needed to remain in charge, but Becker and Connor weren’t crew. He didn’t need to earn or keep their respect.

 

“Spread your knees,” he said. “Open yourself up for me. That’s good.”

 

At the first touch of Becker’s slicked finger against his arse, Zeke jumped, but Becker didn’t stop. He continued to press his index finger inside, past that tight ring of muscle.

 

“How long has it been since you did this, Zeke?” Becker asked, stilling.

 

Zeke pressed back against his finger, trying to encourage him to continue. “A while,” he admitted. “I want this, Becker.”

 

Becker dripped a little more oil onto his fingers and continued, making sure that Zeke was ready for him before withdrawing them. He quickly slicked his cock and began easing into Zeke.

 

Near them, Connor watched. He was sitting cross-legged at the head of the bed, his gaze fixed firmly on the pair of them, watching Zeke’s reactions as Becker began to move, stroking into him slowly at first. Becker glanced up at him, sitting there, watching. Connor looked up, his gaze meeting Becker’s and he grinned.

 

“This is better than watching porn,” he said.

 

Becker made sure he put on a show as he fucked Zeke, keeping his eyes locked with Connor’s.

 

When eventually the three of them curled up together on Zeke’s narrow bunk, Zeke sleepily curled into Connor’s side.

 

“Thank you,” Zeke murmured.  

 

Becker slung an arm over him and settled down against his back, telling him to go to sleep.

 

~.~

 

The following morning, Becker found himself working on deck alongside the crew, whilst Connor had been sent off toward the galley to assist there. They were doing whatever they were told, and Becker found that he enjoyed the physical work for a change. Life at the ARC involved a lot of waiting around for something to happen in between anomaly calls but here, there was a constant activity that lasted until they dropped anchor for the night.

 

As soon as they anchored, and the crew had been fed, Zeke continued attempting to educate Becker on the finer points of swordplay. He had asked Connor to join them but after a near miss involving a sharp blade and Connor’s toe, they had decided that for his and everyone else’s safety it would be better to keep the sharp blades away from him. Should he need it, Zeke conceded, he would be better with a pistol.

 

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Becker had joked. When Zeke frowned, he added, “He once shot a member of his own team with a tranquiliser gun by accident.”

 

As Zeke laughed, Connor grumbled, “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

 

Becker shook his head. “Not in this lifetime.”

 

Becker, however, was improving. Even the crew had grudgingly begun to cheer for him when they came out for their nightly entertainment of watching the duelling lessons. It had been four days since leaving port and they were due back in another three, this trip being only a short supply run, and in that time, Becker had taken to life as a pirate like a duck to water.

 

That night, as Connor watched Becker’s lesson, he realised with a start that he hadn’t even looked at the anomaly detector that day. He had been dutifully checking it every morning and evening in the hope that the anomaly had reappeared, leaving the alarm set to alert him as well, but what bothered him was that it hadn’t even occurred to him to check. He was getting comfortable here; the crew had begun to accept them, appreciating the way they both pitched in to help, and he and Becker spent their nights in Zeke’s bed.

 

And therein lay the problem; this ship was starting to feel like home.

 

He stood suddenly and went to Zeke’s cabin, and that was where Becker and Zeke found him a few moments later, sitting on the floor with the anomaly detector in his hands.

 

“Conn, what’s the matter?” Becker asked, crouching beside him.

 

Connor held up the detector. “I didn’t check it,” he said. “The batteries are dead but I forgot to check it today and so they never got changed. What if the anomaly re-opened and we didn’t know about it?”

 

He had swapped the batteries for the spares that he always carried in his backpack for this kind of situation but there was no way to tell if anything had happened whilst the detector was down. At present, it showed no anomalies, but that didn’t meant there hadn’t been one a few hours ago.

 

“What if we never get home because I screwed up?”

 

Becker propped the sword in the corner of the room and went back to kneel in front of Connor.

 

“Then we’ll make the best of it here,” he said. “It’s not your fault; there are two of us here and I didn’t notice that the batteries were dead either. There’s something about this place, this ship, that gets under your skin. I like it here, and I keep thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad place to have to stay, even though I know I shouldn’t be thinking like that.”

 

Connor smiled, relieved. “Me too.”

 

He took the hand that Becker offered to help him up and frowned at Zeke, making a quiet exit from the cabin.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“I thought that I would leave you two alone.” He saw the eye-roll that Connor shot his way and amended, “Or I could stay.”

 

“You don’t have to remain with us, if you don’t want to,” he said, seeing that Zeke would do almost anything Connor asked. Hell, most people would when Connor turned the big brown puppy-eyes on them. “If you want some time to yourself, you only have to say.”

 

Zeke shook his head. “I don’t!”

 

“Good, then shut that door and get over here,” Connor told him with a grin. “You can help me ravish Becker…” he added, as a little extra incentive. “Look at him, he’s all hot and sweaty and looking _very_ lickable at present.”

 

It was all the persuasion Zeke needed and he kicked the door closed before turning the key. He really didn’t want them to be disturbed.

 

~.~

 

Three days later they arrived back in port at around noon. The weather had changed dramatically and large grey storm clouds were building on the horizon, the water becoming choppy, rocking the ship as the winds grew stronger. Captain Black ordered them to take the ship in and to anchor near the south side of the harbour where the cliffs would offer them most protection from the elements.

 

“Just a breeze, lad,” one of the crew told Connor when he asked them how bad the storm was likely to get. “Nothin’ to worry about. I daresay we’ve sailed through worse.”

 

When the rain began, a light mist that soon turned into a steady shower, Connor was helping the men get everything stowed below decks. If it was going to be just a breeze, he thought, then why the hell were they strapping down anything that couldn’t be moved below deck? The wind continued to strengthen and there was a flash of lightening moments before a rumble of thunder sounded overhead. What was it his mum always told him? Never stand under a tree when it starts lightening. He glanced up at the high masts nervously. They weren’t trees, but he was standing under three high wooden poles…

 

Becker finished helping the men rope down the sails and jumped back down onto the deck, wiping the water from his eyes. They were all soaked through to the skin, their clothing sticking to them and making it hard to move, but on Becker it just looked bloody fantastic. He wore no jacket as it was still warm, despite the rain and wind, and so the cotton shirt now clung to every inch of his torso, the material partially see-through. Connor licked his lips, unable to keep the smile off his face as he watched Becker striding toward him.

 

Over Becker’s shoulder he caught sight of Zeke with a similar expression to the one he knew was on his own face, only the other man’s gaze was firmly on Becker’s arse as the moisture made the tight trousers fit even more snugly. Suddenly, Zeke looked up and caught his eye and they grinned at each other.

 

“What’s so funny?” Becker asked.

 

Connor laughed. “Just that, apparently, great minds do think alike,” he replied.

 

Zeke approached then, raking a hand through his dripping hair. “There’s a party going to shore,” he told them. “Cap’n’s staying behind, some of the crew, too, but everyone else is going to sit out the storm in the tavern if you want to join them.”

 

“Or we could stay behind and have the place to ourselves,” Connor suggested, looking Becker over once more. Zeke reminded him that others were staying behind and Connor’s smile faded. “Well that wouldn’t be as much fun,” he complained. “In that case, I vote for the tavern.”

 

~.~

 

The storm was directly overhead, the rain pounding on the roof of the tavern and occasionally dripping through into a tin bucket in the corner. Thunder crashed and the shutters on the windows rattled with each gust of wind. Safe and dry inside the tavern, the crew of the Moonshadow sat around a couple of long wooden tables, tankards of ale in front of them as they recounted stories of high-seas adventures and crude tales of past conquests.

 

Zeke was taking quite a teasing about Becker and Connor, his fellow crewmembers much braver when they had a significant amount of ale inside them. From what they were saying, Zeke had a habit of bringing men or women back to the ship, but he rarely brought two as he had this time. Gradually the teasing turned to Becker and Connor, the men making increasingly disgusting jokes regarding their activities.

 

“Millie!” One of the men yelled out, banging his tankard on the table. “More ale, if you please, my good woman.”

 

The buxom woman behind the bar gave him an exasperated look but sent one of her girls over to refill their tankards. Connor politely declined a refill, as did Becker; if they tried to match the pirates drink for drink they’d be under the table in no time. They were rowdy and uncouth, and some of their stories would make even the most hardened soldier blush, but Becker liked the men. It reminded him of being back home, getting together in the pub with his old army mates.

 

“I’ve been thinking,” Connor said to him, leaning closer. “This wouldn’t be such a bad place to be stranded if we can’t get home. Not that I don’t want to go back, but if we had to be somewhere, this isn’t so bad.”

 

Becker had to agree. When they did get home, he was going to miss this.

 

~.~

 

One thing he wouldn’t miss about this place, Connor thought as he made a dash to the outhouse around the back of the tavern, was the lack of indoor plumbing. And electricity. And TV. Alfresco bathroom facilities were not something he wanted to remember. They had draughts and leaks and, worst of all, spiders.

 

He was making his way back into the tavern when he caught sight of someone emerging from the building across the street. A woman in a frilly, low cut dress and ruby-painted lips said something to him as he left and she went back inside out of the rain. The man was heading for the tavern.

 

“Becker! I just saw that bloke again,” he said as soon as he got back to the tables where the crew were still sitting. “Henry. He was coming this way.”

 

Zeke looked around and sighed. “Bugger,” he muttered, as a dark shadow fell over Becker.

 

Around the table, the men looked up, their hands going to the pistols and blades they carried. Connor felt a hand on his shoulder and he was yanked away from the others, being passed back through from hand to hand into the crowd of men around Scarface Henry. He saw Becker and Zeke jump to their feet but they were kept at bay by Henry’s men.

 

“Get off me!” He kicked and scratched at the people holding him until he could make a break for it, back to the others. Within moments, the crew had formed an armed barrier around him.

 

Henry barely noticed, though. He stood before Becker, his sword drawn, the point inches from Becker’s throat.

 

“I don’t like being shown up,” he told Becker in a low voice. “Especially not by some pansy-arsed pretty-boy using tricks to cheat.” When Becker made no move to defend himself, Henry smirked nastily. “What’s the matter, pretty-boy? Can’t stand up for yourself without your tricks, need to hide behind that rabble?”

 

Connor could see Becker getting annoyed, though he still didn’t react, not wanting to make the first move. He stood and looked Henry calmly in the eyes, which seemed to anger the man even more and he pushed the blade closer, the tip pressing into Becker’s skin.

 

He hardy saw Becker move but one moment he was there with Henry’s blade against his chest and the next, the blade had been batted aside and Becker ducked out of reach. One of the crew tossed him a cutlass and he brought it up just in time to block Henry’s sword.

 

Within minutes, the entire tavern was one giant bar-brawl. The crew happily waded into the fray, weapons at the ready, eager for a chance to take a few of Scarface Henry’s men down. Connor ducked as a bottle was launched at the man behind him, smashing as the intended target fended it off with the pistol he had in his hand. Someone pressed a short sword into his grip and he took it even though he had no real clue how to use it. At present, that was better than being unarmed in the middle of this riot, he thought, backing himself into an easily-defendable corner and lashing out at anyone who came too close.

 

A short distance away, amid the flashes of steel blades and the clash of metal on metal, Becker used every dirty trick that Zeke had taught him as he fought with Henry. Unfortunately, it was obvious from the start that he was severely outmatched; he was barely holding his own against the experienced swordsman. Connor watched as more than once it appeared that Becker would be injured, just managing to get out of the way at the last second.

 

Connor saw Becker glance his way, checking that he was alright, but the distraction gave Henry the opportunity he needed and he knocked the blade out of Becker’s hand, sending it crashing to the floor. Becker froze, his eyes firmly fixed on the sword now pointed once again at his throat.

 

Suddenly, Henry crumpled to the ground, a surprised look on his face. The woman who had been serving them ale when they first came in lowered the thick wooden tray she had just used to knock Henry out with and smiled.

 

“Ooops?”

 

Becker glanced down at the unconscious man on the floor; it seemed that it wasn’t just the pirates who hated Scarface Henry.

 

“Thanks.”

 

She grinned at him. “My pleasure,” she said, giving him a kick before signalling two more of her girls over. Between them, they dragged him outside and dumped him in the street in the rain.

 

The rest of Henry’s men had already been overpowered, their numbers so few against everyone wishing them harm, and were quickly evicted in much the same way. In a way, Connor felt a bit sorry for Henry. If he’d thought that being shot with an EMD was humiliating, then imagine what it would do to his ego when he woke up and found out that this time, he’d been knocked out by a woman with a tray. A story Connor was sure the Moonshadow’s crew would be happy to tell to anyone who’d listen.

 

~.~

 

By the time they emerged from the tavern early the next morning the storm had broken and the sky was clear, the first signs of sunrise giving it a pinkish glow. Becker was looking decidedly worse for wear, as were most of the other men, as Connor and Zeke steered him outside. The rest of the crew were singing, out of tune and rather loudly, what had sounded like a sea shanty until Connor listened to the words. Something crude about a randy sailor and a preacher’s daughter… Connor tried not to laugh but, next to this lot, the security blokes back at the ARC sounded like choirboys.

 

The crew staggered back along the harbour until they reached the end mooring, the only place deep enough to accommodate a ship the size of the Moonshadow. A couple of the crew were on deck, offering no help at all when their shipmates stumbled and tripped their way up the gangplank.

 

Connor and Zeke followed a short distance behind, Becker ambling along between them. It was rare to see him like this, but the crew had insisted on buying him ale in celebration of defeating Scarface Henry. He had tried to explain that he hadn’t, and that it wasn’t him who had knocked Henry out, but they didn’t care. Becker was the one who had fought him twice and still stood to tell the tale.

 

Suddenly, Connor heard the low beeping coming from his backpack and told Zeke to stop. Sure enough, the hand held detector was registering an anomaly nearby.

 

“Becker, it’s back,” he said, pinching Becker’s arm to make sure he was paying attention. “We’re going home.”

 

They headed back toward the buildings, back to the street where the anomaly had left them over a week ago, and there it was. Zeke moved closer, staring in awe at the shimmering lights. He turned back to Connor.

 

“It is just as you described it,” he said, sounding surprised. “That story was the truth.”

 

Connor nodded. “We told you.”

 

He took the EMD out of the backpack, checking the charge. It would give them one shot, if anything, but it would have to do; once they got back through the anomaly, they would have a short distance to go to reach the other one that led back to their time. That was, if the other anomaly was still open. For all they knew, that one could have closed as well but it was a chance they’d have to take.

 

Becker took the EMD from him, checking it again himself out of habit. Despite the amount of alcohol he’d drunk, Connor knew that he would be more than capable with the weapon. Instinct would take over and he’d be back to his usual efficient self.

 

After saying their goodbyes, Connor and Becker stepped through the anomaly, looking around for the second one. Connor frowned as he saw three figures step through behind them about five minutes later later. Zeke was pushed forward by the gun barrel at his back, Henry and one of his men pausing, open mouthed as they looked around. There was a darkening bruise across Henry’s left temple, spreading back under his hairline, from where the wooden tray had made contact, his coat mud-stained up the side from where the women had thrown him out into the sodden street.

 

“Witchcraft!” Henry exclaimed. “This is more of your trickery.”

 

Connor took a step toward him but Henry backed away, the pistol raised.

 

“Just turn around and go back,” Connor told him. “You’ll be back where you were, I promise.”

 

But Henry didn’t turn back. Instead, he held tight to the pistol, his hand shaking slightly now as he trained it on Connor.

 

“Just go,” Connor told him. “I’m trying to help you!”

 

There was a roar in the distance, followed by a snarling sound a little closer to them. Connor looked around for the creature, swearing under his breath as he saw the undergrowth move nearby.

 

“We need to get out of here,” he said to Becker, grabbing hold of Zeke’s arm and pulling him closer.

 

Henry noticed. “No one is going anywhere!” he said.

 

“Oh shut up,” Becker snapped at him. “If you think you’re the worst thing in this place then you’re about to get a rude awakening.”

 

Looking annoyed that they were ignoring him, Henry fired the pistol. At the last minute, Connor felt himself being shoved aside, out of firing line, and landing on the ground. Zeke’s heavy body fell on top of him, the pair of them rolling once before coming to a stop.

 

“Thank you!” Connor noticed Zeke flinch as he tried to get up, heard the pained sound that he tried to disguise and failed. “Did he hit you? Where? How bad is it?”

 

Zeke got to his feet, helped up by Connor. “I’ll be fine. The shot only grazed me.”

 

Leaving Henry behind- they couldn’t afford to waste a shot from the EMD on him- Connor, Becker and Zeke headed for the outcrop of rocks nearby in the hope that it would offer them a bit of protection against whatever was on the way. They didn’t have to wait long to find out. Attracted by the noise of the gunshot and then the smell of blood on Zeke, the creatures came out of the undergrowth, straight at Henry and the other man. Henry was hurriedly reloading the pistol, the other man already with his sword in hand as the creatures attacked.

 

They didn’t stand a chance.

 

Zeke looked away as the two creatures tore at the two men with teeth and claws. Their screams faded away after a few minutes to leave only the wet sounds of flesh being ripped apart and bones breaking between powerful jaws, and the contented growls of the creatures as they fed.

 

“What-?”

 

Connor clapped a hand over Zeke’s mouth, indicating for him to be quiet so as not to draw the creatures’ attention their way. The other man nodded and Connor removed his hand again.

 

Looking to Becker, he pointed to the anomaly, miming them going that way while the creatures were otherwise occupied, but Becker shook his head and pointed again. Connor watched as the anomaly began to contract before vanishing completely. They were stuck here.

 

 _Oh well, at least the creatures have already eaten_ , a small voice in the back of his mind pointed out. And the smell of the massive amounts of blood from their kill would mean that the wound on Zeke wouldn’t draw their attention for a while.

 

He looked around to where the other anomaly had been the last time they were here but it was nowhere to be seen, just the wild prehistoric landscape spreading out before them.

 

By the time that the creatures finally finished their meal and wandered away, Connor’s legs had begun to go to sleep from crouching behind the rocks for so long. They had managed to patch up Zeke’s wound with the small first aid kit from Connor’s backpack, not able to do much beyond disinfect and dress it but at least it would disguise the smell of blood to the local wildlife. It had only nicked him, as he’d said, causing a long graze across his ribs. It wasn’t serious, but it was enough to worry Connor about it getting infected. Zeke, however dismissed it, claiming it didn’t bother him. He seemed more annoyed about the fact it had put a rip in his favourite shirt.

 

There was nothing to do now but find somewhere to hide until the anomaly re-opened, if it ever did.

 

“We should have stayed where we were,” Connor said that night as they sat huddled together in the branches of a tall tree. “We had a safe place to stay, nothing trying to eat us. All we’ve managed to do is get ourselves stuck here, and Zeke too.”

 

“Don’t worry about me,” Zeke told him. “I know that you two will make sure that none of those dragons devour me. This is what you do, is it not? This is what you told me stories about back on the ship that first night.”

 

“It wasn’t a dragon, but a dinosaur,” Connor corrected, “but yes, this is what we do.”

 

Zeke smiled. “Well then I’m not worried. Besides, how many people can say that they have visited another time? Except you two. If Scarface was still around, I would thank him for bringing me here.”

 

~.~

 

Two days later, Becker saw a welcome sight when they scaled down the tree that morning. He nudged Connor and pointed, seeing the other man’s face light up. The anomaly was back, and this time, it was the right one. Even better was the small army of black-clad security men and women, spread out around the area, guns drawn. Abby was with them and she looked up when Connor shouted her name.

 

“Shush! We don’t want the creatures coming back,” Becker told him, and Connor fell silent but that didn’t stop him hurrying across the search party and hugging Abby.

 

When Becker and Zeke followed, a couple of the men raised their weapons at Zeke but Becker shook his head.

 

“He’s with us,” he told them in a low voice.

 

One of the search party held up a torn and bloodied hat. “Found it over there.” He indicated with a nod of his head. “Should we be looking for anyone else?” he asked when Zeke looked it over and said it belonged to Henry.

 

“No. It’s just us,” Connor told them. He heard a low growling in the distance, nowhere near them but enough to remind everyone that the creatures were still out there. “Can we get out of here? I really don’t want to be hanging around when the wildlife gets hungry again.”

 

~.~

 

Back at the ARC, Becker and Connor waited for Zeke after being checked over and declared fit and healthy. Zeke had been taken in so that they could deal with his wound properly, rather than just the hasty field dressing.

 

They had already spoken to Lester and explained what they could, the rest to go in a report that Lester expected on his desk by the end of tomorrow. Other than that, they were allowed to go home.

 

“What about Zeke?” Becker had asked Lester.

 

“Perhaps it would be better if he stayed here for a while,” Lester suggested. “I can’t just let a sixteenth century pirate go wandering about-”

 

Connor and Becker had jumped to his defence at the same time, arguing that he had helped them.

 

“He saved my life!” Connor protested. “That bullet was meant for me but he shoved me out of the way. You can’t just lock him up here. It’s not right.”

 

“And it’s not as though he’s a threat to anyone,” Becker added. “Let him come home with me; I’ll take responsibility for him.”

 

Lester sighed. “Fine, do what you like. You probably would have done anyway,” he grumbled.

 

“So he’s allowed to leave?”

 

Lester waved a hand in reluctant surrender. “Yes, as soon as they’re finished patching him up. Now go.” Once Becker was out of the room, Lester called Connor back in for a moment. “Am I to presume that you won’t be returning to the flat tonight, Connor?”

 

Connor shook his head. “I’m going with Becker, if that’s okay.”

 

“Isn’t it going to be a bit crowded over there with the three of you?”

 

Connor grinned. “Yep.”

 

“Oh.” Lester studied him for a moment, seeing the guilty smile when Connor realised he’d worked it out. He sighed again. “I really didn’t need that particular mental image,” he muttered. “I suppose those pets of yours will be remaining at my flat?” Seeing the look on Connor’s face he nodded. “It’s alright; I’m getting used to having the little buggers around anyway.”

 

So now they sat outside the medical bay, waiting, as he came out talking to one of the ARC doctors. When the doctor saw them, he smiled at Zeke.

 

“I think that’s your ride home,” he said before turning to Becker and Connor. “The wound has been taped and dressed but I don’t want him doing anything strenuous that could open it up again, understood?” When Becker cast him a ‘who, us?’ look, the doctor’s grin widened knowingly. “Don’t give me that look. Zeke and I had a nice long chat while he was in with me.”

 

As the doctor turned around and went back inside, the two of them led Zeke out to the car park.

 

“You told him we were sleeping together?” Becker asked as he unlocked his car.

 

Zeke nodded. “Wasn’t I supposed to? I’m sorry; I didn’t realise you wished it to remain a secret.”

 

“I don’t, not really,” Becker said. “It’s just that I don’t want everyone gossiping about us.”

 

Maybe they wouldn’t be, he reasoned. After all, the only two people who knew were Lester and the doc, neither of who were known for spreading gossip.

 

“Abby knows too,” Connor informed him when he said this out loud. “Actually, she guessed; she always said I couldn’t keep anything from her.”

 

That was it, Becker thought. If Abby knew, then so would Sarah and likely the entire female staff of the ARC.

 

“I didn’t mean to cause problems,” Zeke said once they were in the car.

 

Becker shook his head. “You didn’t. I’m just overreacting, I guess.”

 

He started the engine, seeing the faint look of concern flash across Zeke’s face. He had coped with the oddities of this time well so far, such as the car journey back to the ARC and then the ARC itself, but there was so much more to show him.

 

“Right, let’s go home and get cleaned up,” Becker said. “I think some of Connor’s things will fit you, Zeke.”

 

“Speaking of which, we’ll need to call in at Lester’s to collect some things if I’m staying with you tonight,” Connor interjected from the back seat. “I can introduce Zeke to Sid and Nancy as well when I give them their dinner.”

 

Zeke frowned. “Who?”

 

“Not who,” Becker told him. “More of a ‘what’?”

 

~.~

 

Lester had given them the rest of the week off and so, the following day, Zeke got his first real look at the world that Becker and Connor had told him so much about. Even the more mundane things, he found fascinating. The TV in particular was a source of amazement. The computer was another one.

 

“Great,” Becker complained that evening, though he sounded amused. “He’s been here for a day and already you’ve corrupted him, turned him into a tech geek.”

 

Connor stuck his tongue out at Becker. “You shut up. Geeks are cool.”

 

Becker laughed, leaning forward to read over Connor’s shoulder when he found what they had been looking for.

 

“There it is,” Connor said, scrolling down until he found the link to the page he wanted. The site featured some of the more well known pirates and ships, some with portraits showing the vessels or crews.

 

Zeke looked too. “The Moonshadow!” He smiled sadly. “I’m going to miss her, and the crew. I had sailed with them for nearly ten years.”

 

“Apparently, they had quite a reputation,” Connor told him. “It says ‘the Moonshadow was under the command of Captain Nathaniel Black, a ruthless pirate who sailed the waters under the black flag, looting unwary ships and killing anyone who crossed his path’.”

 

Zeke frowned. “He is nothing of the sort. He may be a pirate, but he’s a good man. Was a good man,” he corrected quietly.

 

“I know; he took us in, didn’t he?” Connor read the rest of the section, working out the dates. “It says they sailed for another 15 years after you left, before they were involved in a fierce fight with the Naval ship, The Narcissus, and the Moonshadow was destroyed.”

 

“Does it say what happened to the crew or to Nathaniel?”

 

Connor nodded. “I’m sorry, Zeke. It says that Captain Black and most of the crew were lost with the ship; seven men survived but they were then tried for piracy and sentenced by the British courts.”

 

He saw Zeke back away, dropping down into the chair next to him with a stunned look on his face, and followed.

 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have looked,” he said, but Zeke shook his head.

 

“I wanted to know. I just can’t believe that was how it ended. We always knew that it was a risk, that one day the Navy could catch up to us, but we never really believed it would happen.”

 

Becker crouched down next to him, opposite Connor. “They had another 15 years as well, don’t forget that.”

 

Zeke nodded. “I suppose so. But the things they say about Nathaniel… Did you know he took me in when I was just a boy? My mother had died whilst I was a baby, and my father didn’t want me. He was a vicious man, always ready with the strap, and so I ran away as soon as I was old enough. Nathaniel Black found me, half starved, and fed me. He let me come aboard as a cabin boy and I worked my way up through the crew. He was like a father to me, or like I imagined one should be. I had a good life there.”

 

“And then we came along and ruined it for you.”

 

“No!” Zeke told them. “Do you know why I wanted to serve on the Moonshadow? Adventure. I wanted to see the world and I did. Now you bring me here, to a world I could not have dreamed in my wildest fantasies.” He smiled, looping an arm around each of their shoulders and gave them both an impulsive hug. “What bigger adventure could I hope for?”

 

 

~.~

End.


End file.
